


Summer in San Dimas

by indecentlytheatrical



Category: Bill & Ted (Movies)
Genre: 1980s, Bisexual Female Character of Color, Captain Logan is an abusive bastard, Child Abandonment, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Lesbian Character of Color, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Music, Queer Pining, Queer Relationships, Queer Youth, Self-Discovery, Ted is a clueless bi but we love him for it, Teenage Dorks, Teenage Drama, The princesses don't exist in this one lol sorry, Time Travel, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:13:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26313220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indecentlytheatrical/pseuds/indecentlytheatrical
Summary: After years of longing for a place to call home, Melanie Deetz arrives in San Dimas and meets two locals who may just be exactly what she's been searching for... But will she like what she finds?(essentially just a cute lil self-discovery fic w/ some interpersonal drama thrown in--check the tags for any other facets you may be curious abt!)
Relationships: Missy Preston/Mr Preston, Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Ted "Theodore" Logan/Bill S. Preston Esq., Ted "Theodore" Logan/Original Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Summer in San Dimas

If there was one thing Melanie hated the most about moving around all the time—it was the constant packing and unpacking of everything she owned. Spending only God-knows-how-many hours slumped in the passenger’s seat of her mother’s old Ford Escort listening to the same three books-on-tape had become somewhat of a family tradition since her father’s extended, ‘leave of absence,’ when she was eleven years old. Now, seven years later, her mother wondered why she still believed he would come back eventually. Despite being aware of what his abandonment of them could’ve meant, for his own sake, Melanie hoped he was doing alright.

“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” the older woman remarked as she took the key out of the ignition and sat back with a relieved sigh. Melanie’s eyebrows darting up at this, the two shared weak smiles of uncertainty as they peered over at their new home, at least for the time-being. It was a fine-looking house—a small, one-story of a bluish-gray hue tucked neatly between two larger two-stories of far more exciting colors, but seemingly sufficient for a family of their size. “Well, those boxes aren’t gonna unpack themselves—c’mon,” the brief trance Melanie had found herself in being broken by a light tap on her shoulder.

Shaking her head minutely at the feeling of déjà vu that came along with it, Melanie climbed out of the car. Upon almost finishing the dreaded process of lugging boxes from the trunk and depositing them in their various labelled destinations, the less-than enthusiastic girl was reminded of one thing she did happen to like about moving. Meeting new people.

“Need a hand with that, dudette?” offered a tall, lanky boy with long, messy brown hair and a strong valley-boy accent. Locking eyes with him, Melanie smiled—already amused by his presence. This wasn’t her first time in California, but she didn’t expect to run into someone who fit the famous stereotype so quickly.

“Oh sure—thanks, dude,” she quipped back with a small chuckle, allowing the funny boy to take the box she’d been struggling with off her hands.

“Ah, I’m Ted ‘Theodore’ Logan—but you can call me Ted,” he introduced himself after a moment, not giving Melanie even a second to process how he’d done it when another boy, shorter with curly blonde hair came barreling up to them. “Oh, and that’s Bill S. Preston, Esquire—”

“You can call me Bill,” finished the panting boy, rising slowly up from his doubled-over position, still catching his breath when he was fully upright once more.

“Good to know—Mel ‘Melanie’ Deetz,” the confused, but charmed girl replied, mimicking their format with a soft laugh. “I’m assuming you guys live around here?”

“Yup! I’m over there and Bill’s just around the corner!” informed Ted enthusiastically, throwing his thumb behind him at a house across the road with a four-hang for a porch and two large white doors. “Yeah, we were just about to—wait is that the new Van Halen album?!” the cheerful boy had started, promptly interrupting himself when he spied the one particular tape resting face up among the others stowed in the box he was currently holding.

“Ted don’t snoop!” chided Bill, swatting his friend lightly on the arm—Ted dropping the tape automatically.

“Oh no it’s fine! You can borrow it if you want,” assured Melanie, chuckling at the wonderstruck expressions that came across the boy’s faces at her offer.

“Really? Thanks!” Ted sang, overjoyed as he admired the shiny new plastic casing. Though it appeared they were both eager to accept the deal with no questions, Bill was the first to narrow his eyes in suspicion.

“Wait, how did you get it so early? I thought for sure it wasn’t coming out for another few weeks,” he questioned.

“I thought so too but my dad always seems to find a way to get it sooner. He sends me new tapes for my birthday every year—better than just a card, I guess…” she explained with a faint smile, trailing off at the thought—wondering if she genuinely believed it or not.

“Well, have you listened to it yet? We’d hate to deprive you of such an excellent birthday present before you did,” inquired Ted politely.

“Ah, no—I only got it yesterday and my mom has a strict, ‘no rock,’ rule on long road-trips—says it gives her headaches,” Melanie answered, snorting at the appalled reaction said rule received from Bill, while Ted nodded with a frown that told her he understood her experience.

“My dad’s the same way—only it’s ‘no rock,’ in the car or anywhere near him, really,” he told her, seeming to freeze up a little at the mention of his father. Noticing this, Bill was quick to move the conversation along.

“We could all listen to it at my house! If that’s alright with you, of course, Mel,” the shorter boy added, Melanie appreciating the consideration and how welcoming the casual use of her nickname made her feel.

“Yeah, I’d love to! I should check in with my mom first, though—I don’t wanna leave her to bring in all the boxes by her—” she stopped dead in the middle of her sentence when she turned her head towards her new home to see her mother leaned in the doorway, a proud grin plastered on her face.

“That’s fine, honey! I’ve got it, you go on ahead!” the darker-toned woman called, giving her daughter an encouraging, if not mildly embarrassing thumbs-up. Melanie knew most parents enjoyed watching the utter mortification that tended to follow their failed efforts at appearing, ‘hip,’ but never had she seen it more than with her mother.

“Oh okay! How long have you been standing there—you know what? Never mind… Love you, be back soon!” she wasted no time hurrying her farewell along, turning to leave when, as she expected, her mother had other plans.

“What? No introduction to your new friends?” she went on, prompting the boys to do it themselves, but sensing additional teasing on the horizon, Melanie stepped in, swiftly taking over.

“That’s Bill—” she gestured to him, the blonde boy doing a pose almost as if on cue, “—and that’s Ted,” the younger Deetz finished, Ted following Bill’s lead.

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Deetz!” they greeted in unison, earning a reception not dissimilar to Melanie’s when they had first met only a short while ago.

“Right back at you—hey, don’t get into too much trouble out there, you hear? You still have the whole summer to cover,” she teased, causing Melanie to roll her eyes playfully, the corners of her lips turning up into a begrudging smile. The joke apparently taking the boys a moment to catch, their delayed laughs cut short when their new confidante suggested they get going.

“Your mom seems pretty cool for someone with a ‘no rock,’ rule,” noted Ted as they made their way up Bill’s driveway, making Melanie snicker.

“Ha try living with her for 17 years,” she quipped, standing back as the carefree duo went about lifting the garage door up.

“At least she’s not only four years older than—” Bill had gone to say but halted the second he realized who had just opened the back door. She was beautiful, with long blonde hair pulled back in a low ponytail, and true to his previous comment—very young-looking. “Sorry, Missy—I mean, Mom,” he stammered, glaring at Ted when he had to stifle a laugh. Uncertain as to how to react, Melanie remained quiet, straightening up a bit when Missy’s eyes darted to land on her.

“Oh hi, are you a friend of the boys? I didn’t think you hung out with anyone else from school, Bill,” she admitted, the subtle mocking-sound in her statement not going unnoticed by its target, Melanie pretending not see Bill’s insulted expression.

“He doesn’t! Melanie just moved in across the street from me,” clarified Ted brightly, bouncing on his toes energetically—seemingly unaware of the double-meaning of Missy’s observation.

“Hey,” the aforementioned girl chimed in, shyly, giving a small wave.

“Well it’s very nice to meet you, Melanie. Welcome to San Dimas,” said Missy, sounding more or less like she truly meant it. “Bill, your father and I are going out for the night—we’ll be back around 10.” she moved on quickly, exiting the room shortly thereafter, her departure punctuated by the slamming of the door behind her.

“I stand corrected,” Melanie relented following a momentary lull of silence between the three of them.

“Yeah, sorry about her—she means well,” apologized Bill, a sheepish look on his face as he swiveled around in search of his boombox.

“It’s okay, I know the feeling…” she commiserated, getting the sense that it wasn’t only the two of them that did when her sights grazed over Ted’s uncharacteristically stoic visage. Strange, Melanie thought—never had she clicked so perfectly with other kids her age that they were already having moments like these. This tension, however, would not last, multiple facets of the room around them capturing her attention.

“Cool room,” Melanie uttered as she wandered about, marveling at the seemingly regular-looking garage turned decorated performance-space. It was actually quite an amazing sight to see—every knick-knack on the various shelves on either side tying it all together along with the multiple instruments completing it in the center. They were in a band, _of course_ , she thought—kicking herself for not realizing it sooner. Continuing on in her inspection, Bill’s word of thanks only just registering with her when something else caught her eye. It was striking—a large drape painted to look like a cement wall hung up on the wall behind the drum kit. In the middle of it were the remnants of an explosion, and two, blocky words. “ _Wyld Stallyns?_ ” she read with a tilt of her head, appreciating the style in which they had been painted on. It was then that she was sure the two boys had never looked more enthused, Bill going to explain but Ted beating him to it.

“Oh yeah, it’s the name of our band!” he exclaimed, beaming with pride.

“I figured,” Melanie teased with a light-hearted laugh. Her gaze shot back to the red-hued of the two headless guitars propped up in their stands. Picking it up, admiring how it felt in her hands spoke again, “This is a great model…You mind?” her eyes went to the two of them, unsure who owned which instrument.

“Not at all,” said Ted, appearing to be entranced by the prospect of hearing her play; Bill mirroring this more or less exactly. Feeling her cheeks heating up under their unbreaking stares, Melanie ducked her head down a bit, clearing her throat and mind before beginning. Growing up, whenever he had the chance, her father would give her lessons on how to play or if he’d been late coming home he would play her a lullaby, strumming as quietly as he could so as to not wake her mother. The last song she’d heard from him, ‘Keep On Loving You,’ by REO Speedwagon of all things, had become somewhat of a way for her to feel connected to him; Melanie improving in her tries at it every time she would sneak into her mother’s room to retrieve his old Fender she kept tucked away in her closet. Since then, she had branched out in her desire to learn, taking frequent trips to any and all music stores they happen to live near just to get a chance to practice on one of the display-models.

Getting lost in the memories, the song came to an abrupt halt when Melanie released her hold on the strings, laughing bashfully.

“Sorry, got carried away…” she stumbled needlessly, setting the guitar back down where it was. Meeting their gazes again, it seemed her new neighbors had something on their minds. Going to open her mouth to ask what that might be, Melanie stopped when Bill cut in, negating the need to,

“Would you excuse us for a most brief moment?” he requested, to which Melanie nodded, watching as he and Ted turned away from her, deliberating as quietly as they were able.

“Melanie, Bill and I have talked it over—and we were wondering if maybe you wanted to become the third official member of the—”

“—Wyld Stallyns!” the two proposed simultaneously.

“Ha, you guys do that a lot,” Melanie pointed out, chuckling to herself.

“Do what?” they said at the same time once again, heads cocked to the side in confusion.

“Never mind,” the dark-haired girl dismissed, “Who else is in the band?”

“Just me and Bill right now,” replied Ted, pointing to himself and then to the shorter boy by his side.

“Mkay, well I can’t play the drums, but I do know a bit of piano—and guitar, as you just saw. So, we’d have to work on getting someone for that…” Melanie asserted, pressing her knuckles to her lips as she considered the idea. She wondered if she should possibly take some more time to mull it over, she did only just meet these guys, after all…

“Is that a yes then?” implored the tall boy not a few moments later, he and Bill wearing pleading, yet oddly endearing expressions. Melanie sighed, unable to ignore the part of herself that told her to go for it, or in turn, the part that wanted to make her father proud—wherever he was…

“Ah, sure, yeah—what the hell?” she threw up her arms in a shrugging motion, giggling with the excitement they’d managed to instill in her.

“Excellent!” the best friends hailed, air-guitaring in triumph. Melanie chuckled, noting this as another shared reactionary gesture of theirs. They seemed to have a lot of them. Even so, she could tell they were already going to be friends. Perhaps moving wasn’t as bad as she thought it was…


End file.
